A Day in Diagon
by MinervasBibliophage
Summary: It's time for Minerva to move on from her Muggle upbringing and take her first steps into the wizarding world, namely Diagon Alley. Isobel is struggling to move past her own memories of the world that cast her out, in order to let Minerva have her special day. She's trying her best, but it's difficult to let go of past hurts that still feel so fresh. Cross-posted to ao3


**_July 1947_**

It was another busy day in London, the crowded sidewalks not doing much for the sweltering heat. A mother and her daughter followed the stream of pedestrians before, curiously, coming to a stop on the walk between two buildings. Their fellow pedestrians parted around them, continuing the flow.

Isobel lightly squeezed her daughter's hand, "Do you see it, then?"

Minerva was staring intently between the two buildings. To any passers-by that would have bothered to pay them any mind, it would have seemed strange for this woman and child to be watching a wall so intently. There was nothing but faded fly posts advertising old products on an empty storefront.

"I can see it," Minerva said, excitement quivering just beneath the surface.

Isobel sighed, a mix of emotions that she would like to pretend was relief. Minerva had been showing signs of magic since the early hours after her birth. She had had a few occasions of accidental magic as any other child would, though maybe not quite so often. She had magic in her, but for some reason, Isobel needed her to see a building sprout out of the sidewalk where it didn't belong. Only then could it be official.

After all, one cannot get to where they are going if they are unable to find the doorway.

She pushed down her irrational desire to immediately return to King's Cross for the next train back to Caithness, and instead let herself be led by her daughter into their proper world.

Merely stepping into the Leaky Cauldron was like stepping into another world, as the unforgiving summer heat gave way to the dim coolness of its interior. It was as shabby as ever, no evidence of even a little sprucing up in the past twelve or so years, Isobel thought to herself. She idly wondered if the concealment charms had kept the pub and Diagon Alley safe from the bombardment only a few years ago. Her musings were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the landlord.

"Can I be of assistance, ma'am?"

Isobel, caught up in surfacing memories that felt bittersweet, floundered for a moment.

"We are looking for Diagon Alley, sir," Minerva answered deliberately, picking up the slack with authority.

The landlord beamed down at the young girl, _good on her, taking charge_, "Muggleborn, are you? Plenty of those, not to worry. Tom can show you to the-"

Isobel finally got a handle on her tongue just as she was losing it on her temper, "We are not muggles. We simply haven't been in Town of late. I know the way." The last phrase came out almost petulantly. She swept past him, misplaced indignation being quickly replaced by trepidation as she strode toward a back door at the end of the bar that she was praying was the courtyard and not a broom cupboard.

Minerva seemed startled by her mother's inexplicable agitation, but she followed her without a word.

If the landlord was irked by Isobel's highhandedness, he hid it remarkably well. Maybe something to do with a barman's philosophy of keeping the customers happy.

Thankfully, this door did indeed lead to the small courtyard.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, _goodness, but she was getting rather tetchy._ She hardly heard the wooden door creak shut behind her as she pulled her wand out of a hidden pocket sewn specially into the inside of her coat. It felt strange being in her hand again. Like wearing a once-favorite blouse for the first in a long time and realizing that it didn't quite fit anymore. One could remember feeling the joy of it, the comfort, but now...

Isobel lifted her wand hand, felt the strangely familiar tingle, _Merlin, when was the last time she had come through here,_ and counted the bricks. Dustbin. Three up. Two across.

Before pressing her wand to the fateful brick, the brick that would open up again the world that had cast her out over a decade ago, she looked down at her daughter, and she softened. Her shoulders relaxed and her vice-like grip on her wand eased. Minerva was staring at the dirty, old brick wall like it was made of gold.

Her daughter's hands were twisting into the edges of her coat in excitement. Her little green eyes were open wide, a dozen emotions flashing across her face, but mostly awe and anticipation. _Finally, _it seemed to scream. Minerva had waited so long for her birthright.

Of course. This was about her. Isobel needed to remember that. She needed to put her own issues aside and let Minerva have this experience, this moment, without any of her mother's bitterness clouding it.

"Are you ready?" she asked her daughter in an almost whisper, her voice becoming unexpectedly choked up.

Minerva glanced at her mother, and, not trusting herself to speak, gave a tight nod.

Isobel tapped the brick three times with her wand, and the sound of a hundred bricks scraping against mortar filled the air as said bricks shifted and shuffled, spreading into a large archway leading into a cobbled street.

The general hubbub of the bustling storefronts, the gentle rush and flow of talking patrons, the shopkeepers shouting their wares, it filled the once-quiet courtyard with light and noise.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Minerva."

* * *

Stepping into the cool confines of Flourish and Blotts was a relief for Isobel, both from the hot July sun and the imagined stares she felt following her. Minerva's excitement, having flagged after lengthy measurings for school robes at Madame Malkin's, returned tenfold at the sight of so many books! She surged forward to the large display conveniently placed at the front of the store for first-year students.

"Look, Mum, all the books are here! May we stay a while longer?" Minerva was virtually quivering with enthusiasm as she asked. She was just itching to look at all the information she didn't know, all the books she would never, could never, see in the village library.

"Of course, dear," Isobel answered faintly. She slowly placed the required books into her basket, heedless of her daughter running off into the stacks. She was lost in her own memories of all the times she had done this before.

She remembered proudly choosing her books, making sure none of the covers had nicks on them. She remembered leading her younger siblings and helping them find their books. Isobel had felt so wise and grown-up, pretending she was a mother and they were her children. Now, here she was years later with her own daughter, and she hadn't the slightest idea of what happened to her siblings. Ever since her mother had banished her from the family for deigning to marry a Muggle... were they ashamed of her? Were they well? Had they had their own children?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a kindly clerk who had mistook her melancholic reminiscing for overwhelmed disbelief.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but if you would like further reading, we have a section that I feel would put you at ease."

She looked to where he gestured and saw the corner where she recalled finding her textbook for her Muggle Studies elective. Front and center was a brightly colored book with large text on the cover proclaiming its title: _Your Magical Child and You_.

"It's a new initiative by the Ministry," he explained. "Meant to ease the transition of muggleborns with a quick overview with all you need to know of the wizarding world. It's sharply discounted when bought in conjunction with the first-year required reading list."

Her bruised pride reared its head again. She was not some ignorant muggle, only a nostalgic witch mired in old memories.

"I've known the wizarding world well enough, thank you very much." Her rancor slipped through.

"Been to the continent, have you?" The clerk grew uneasy, "Sorry, ma'am, I only meant to help. After the war, can't tell what kind of shell-shocked people are anymore."

"No, of course, thank you." She shook her head at her own foolishness and forced a smile for his benefit. Isobel turned toward the stacks to find her daughter.

Isobel walked slowly through the winding aisles, looking but not seeing. Her hands grazed over the covers of the books, feeling the differing textures, but not picking them up. It felt strange and unreal to be here, so old and so new at the same time. She found Minerva a few aisles over looking at history texts.

"Mum, who's Grindelwald? All these books are about him instead of the Second War."

Isobel was reminded yet again just how isolated they were in their small muggle village. She had only had word of him and the troubles in the wizarding world when Aunt Diana helped with her delivery.

"Just the wizard equivalent, Minerva," she brushed off, as she turned over a worn copy of _Safeguarding Your Muggle Neighbours_. She placed it back on the shelf.

A sharp gasp caught her attention. At the end of the long aisle was a familiar-looking woman, eyes wide and hand over her mouth. If Isobel focused for just a moment, she could see the young girl this woman had once been. _Merlin's kneazle_. She wasn't ready for this.

"Minerva, it's time to go," she said briskly as she turned her back on an old friend. "Put the book back."

Her daughter slid the book back into place with a disappointed sigh, "But I brought pocket money..."

Isobel hustled her out to the front, counting out the necessary galleons and sickles. She dumped the gold and silver coins onto the counter, and left. The clerk could keep the change.

The duo strode past multiple storefronts in a rush. Minerva struggled to keep up, and when Isobel was finally able to wrangle her flight response, she slowed the pace down to better accommodate her daughter's shorter stride. Her racing heart also began to slow back to a measured beat, and her breaths no longer stuck in her throat. It was nothing, nothing at all.

"Do we really have to leave already? It's not that late," Minerva whined as she scuffed her shoe on the cobblestone street.

"I just needed to get out of there, dear." She gave a reassuring smile. It wouldn't be fair to her daughter to ruin her day simply because she could not let go of past hurts. "We could go to the Emporium and look at the cats and owls. Mind, we can't buy one," she added sternly. "Or we could go to Fortescue's for ice cream?"

Minerva beamed up at her mother, "Do you think they have any crups? I think Malcolm and Robbie would love one!"

Isobel gave her a pointed look, "We live in a muggle village, you know very well we cannot have a crup."

"I'll train it not to attack them!" she exclaimed.

"And what, pray tell, shall you do about its forked tail? Bind it?"

"We'll say it was born with it." Minerva redoubled her efforts as her mother rolled her eyes, "It isn't a lie, and our dog will be infinitely more interesting than the Petersons' dog."

Isobel smirked, "Clever girl, but the Emporium won't have any crups. One needs a license to own one, and must purchase it from an accredited breeder."

"So, why not a cat?"

_Oh, it was this age-old battle between them. _"There are plenty of cats in the village. There must be two in every barn."

"But shouldn't I have a familiar now that I'll be a witch proper?"

Isobel gave her a stern look, "The villagers think us strange enough without you having a familiar as well." The rumors and tall tales spread by the village children were not helped by the fact that most of their claims were true. _Note to self, when home, account for all Malcolm and Robbie's actions during this trip and how best to cover them up._

Minerva tried not to look too put out, "Well, I still want to pet the cats."

"And we will," Isobel reassured her. She gestured just ahead of them, "Here we are, then."

Minerva excitedly sped up to get to the door before her mother. With a quick grin, she tossed over her shoulder, "And we'll get ice cream for afters."

Isobel shook her head fondly, "We'll see about that, little miss." She caught the door just before it managed to separate her from her daughter, and followed her in.

* * *

Minerva had a lovely day on her first journey into the wizarding world. Even if Mum always seemed a little preoccupied, and the pace she had set sometimes a little too brisk, Diagon Alley had exceeded all her expectations!

She swung her legs back and forth as she sat on the train bench. If only she had managed to buy a book with the pocket money she had brought, then she wouldn't be so bored now. But Mum had been in a such a fuss about leaving the store immediately. Minerva idly traced the sizable stain of melted ice cream on her skirt, just above her knee. _One would think Fortescue could magic his cones to be drip-proof._ She thought about asking her what had happened at the store, but her mother was looking out the window at the passing scenery. She could tell Mum was in one of her moods again. They seemed to be coming more often. Mum would just disappear into her own head and lose all track of everything.

Minerva gave a great big sigh and leaned her head against the back of her seat. It saddened her to know that once she got home all her precious new books and robes and chocolate frog cards would be locked away in a trunk until she would be on her way to Hogwarts. It was only natural, of course. It wouldn't be safe if Malcolm and Robbie managed to get their grubby little hands on them. Their magic may have come much later than Minerva's had, but they were quickly making up for lost time.

Smiling to herself, she patted her slightly bulging coat pockets. They were stuffed with bags of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and chocolate frogs, specially bought for her little brothers. They had been green with envy when told they were not allowed to come to London, so she wanted to make sure she brought home a little magic just for them. Minerva would be leaving soon and she wanted to make them all as happy as she could.

She closed her eyes, slowly drifting off and dreaming of another train ride she would soon be taking.


End file.
